


Just my drabbles.

by metalmaddog



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2018-12-04 02:53:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11545986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/metalmaddog/pseuds/metalmaddog
Summary: 1: Grinnaux and Paulecrain have dinner or don't quite get there. 2: Charibert takes care of sick Grinnaux. 3. Ishgard politics musing with Ser Handeloup. 4: As usual Ser Noudenet and Ser Guerrique enjoy the stars.





	1. Chapter 1

When I stare at your dark and handsome face across the round table, with a white cloth, I feel there is little else I need in this world. Where ever we are it does not matter to me. To simply be with mine master is all I have ever wished from the day I fought with you in that seedy tavern back in Ishgard. Even here, far away from home, where the nights are so very warm but dark and the chocolate coloured skin of your neck glistens with sweat even at this time after the sunset, all I wish is to stay by your side. I would not even need to fight anymore, unless it was to defend you, I would not even need ale to make the cold and life little more bearable. You are all the addiction I need. None of those things matter as long as I can curl up by your feet in whatever inn bed we have for the night. Because my home is where ever you are, where I can touch your hard muscles and your soft ass and belly and where I can seethe my lance into a holster where it never must needs be removed from.  
The air here smells so wonderful and I feel content for the moment even though the table between us is creating a distance that I find far too disconcerting. I watch your brow wrinkle while you stare at the menu. I know you are struggling to read it but I’ve taught you at least the basics and in public like this there is little I can do to help. The large Roegadyn waiter is standing by ready to take our order. Even such hard, manly and handsome face can look adorable when it’s concentrating in reading but for the love of Halone I do wish you would not open your mouth sometimes.  
“Can I put ketchup on this?”  
Before mine eyes the light green skinned man turns white as the sheets in Dzemael manor and he begins to choke. You stare at him hard with annoyance now.  
“That… that is our most expensive dish. It… they they fly it all the way from Kugane… it’s fish. You… fish doesn’t need… ke… ketchup…” It seems that the shock of the idea is too much for the man and suddenly he falls down on the deck of the restaurant: quite unconscious. Neither of us pay attention to him.  
“Paulecrain, do you think they would let me put ketchup on a fish in this Kugone place?” You lay the menu down leaning your elbow on the table and your other hand on the knee of your large leg. Though I shudder at the idea of anyone wishing to taste something like that but then again there is little I find amusing in this world outside your wonderful and ridiculous stupidity, which is all mine to have, hold and keep safe. I simply give you a small smile and bow my head.  
“KugAne… is a far eastern place. Perhaps they have dishes made entirely of ketchup. And if not, Ser Grinnaux, I would be most honoured to let you have me with some ketchup.” The idea clearly intrigues him and the dinner forgotten, as well as the poor waiter, we head towards the pier to find a ship to hire. Though I do wonder what you are planning to do with those dozen bottles of ketchup you have brought with us.


	2. 43

The Dzemael Bull was lying in a bed with a high fever. He obviously insisted he was not sick but when Ser Charibert was sitting by his bedside there was no way for him to argue. The huge elezen was tugged under a blanket up to his nose and the mage’s elegant hand lay on his forehead.  
“You are indeed still running a high fever, my dear Bull. You are not allowed to go out and play with your knife.”  
“Axe…” Mumbled Bull grumpily from between the covers.  
“Mmm…? Perhaps you spoke my dear?” Charibert raised an eyebrow in a manner that made Bull burrow deeper into his bedclothes.  
“N… nothing, Ser Charibert.”  
“My little calf… such a good boy for mommy.” Grinnaux wanted to protest but decided it was better to be quiet. Gently the hand that had burned the guilty heretics and the innocent alike stroked the darker forehead under it. Grinnaux’ skin was sweaty but it did not seem to matter.  
“Here.” A piece of chocolate was pressed to his lips, held in those long slender fingers in almost tantalising manner. Grinnaux eyed Charibert suspiciously, took it quickly between his lips then carefully and slowly chewed on it; afraid it would burn him from the inside out. However, it simply tasted sweet, and perhaps a little fiery, but it was not painful. He stared questioningly at Charibert while the older man proceeded to feed him several more. “Chocolate is good for the sick. 43 pieces is just the perfect number.” Grinnaux happily took them into his mouth and chewed. He was not a small man so the number was not too much for him.  
“Why forty three?” Charibert made him drink some warm milk in between the tasty pieces, it tested odd but the Bull didn’t like to be fuzzy with the mage.  
“Oh it’s simply the perfect number, is it not? An answer to everything. 42 has nothing on it.” Charibert smiled and wiped Grinnaux’ mouth with his own handkerchief. Bull could only agree by nodding but as he was not that clever he did not quite understand the point of the number. Charibert petted his chest, kissed him on the side of his mouth then turned the lights off telling Bull very gently goodnight.


	3. The Bell

The large bell that had adorned the Arc of Humble had fallen down. And as it had landed, had made quite a large hole into the pavement below it. It was lucky that no one had been injured though the noise it had made had woken up half of the city and made everyone think the dragons had turned on them again and were attacking. In the morning the tragedy was discovered in the full sunlight and quite a large group of people had gathered around it. Someone had gone to fetch Ser Handeloup who was in charge of such things and he was brought in once they had managed to get him out of bed.  
It was a sorry sight even with no living victims. Such an old important element of the city. It had been there longer than most of them had lived. And Ser Handeloup already had his hands full with things that were broken or about to around the city. He touched his chin thoughtfully as he and somewhat silent group of people were gathered around the bell to stare at it. There were noises from the distance, of the city waking up, but the large group silently staring was pitiful. The silence was unnerving and Handeloup decided to take action.  
“Clear the bell out and transport it to the Skysteel Manufactory. They will surely know how to fix it. Worry not my fellow citizen. We’ll have the bell right up there again as good as new.” He said in a loud voice. With only a few murmurs the people started off into each their own direction; leaving him alone with four of the Temple Knights who were trying to shift the heavy copper and tin piece.  
Handeloup sighed wondering whether there were any money in the goffers to even proceed with repairs. While the new system of government did take most people under consideration it also took forever for anything to be done. There were always arguments that dragged any issue on and on including that of money for repairs around the city. Especially house Dzemael was always throwing snow into the cartwheels, because it was directly away from their financial gain hat the city would hire someone outside of them to do the work. So most city repair issues had come to a standstill. Handeloup simply had not been granted any gil in moons to do anything about even the most serious issues that plagued the city’s infrastructure and buildings. Sometimes he wondered whether a few good men in charge would have made things better, rather than this new form of governing. It merely looked good on paper; when put into words but in reality it did not make sufficient changes to the disparity of wealth in the city. The poor continued to be poor and the rich continued to be rich.  
The bell reached Skysteel Manufactory eventually, but as repair finances were less than zero, it was soon left in a corner of the warehouse into a heap of other unnecessary metal objects. There it sat, slowly buried under other old, once meaningful, broken things, and from where it was eventually discovered, melted back into bronze bars and used to make something more practical that could be sold for gil.


	4. Deep in the galactic cups

The night was clear and beautiful: millions of stars spread over Ishgard like Lakshmi over her snakelets. The clear night also meant freezing and bitter coldness but the two figures on the roof of the Vault did not seem to be bothered.  
Ser Noudenet leaned back, resting on his palms and looked up at the sky in childish wonder and happiness, while his partner Ser Guerrique was laying with his head in Noudenet’s lap and looking up at the sky as well.  
“Do you ever wonder, Ser Guerrique, about the things out there? What we could learn of aether from the stars or other objects of the sky if we could visit them? All those other worlds… mayhap they would be filled with even greater knowledge than ours. They must needs have the most amazing libraries where information would be endless… all those different worlds that would perhaps function differently from ours… with no religion or people in charge but just detailed knowledge of every little speckle of aether. Men of knowledge guiding people with insight instead of power and money.” He babbled happily blowing steam out from between his lips. Meanwhile Ser Guerrique knitted his eyebrows thoughtfully but wasn’t really quite sure if he understood correctly but then realisation hit him like the Dzemael Bull on the battlefield.  
“Ah yes my dear Ser Noudenet. I often wonder in bed by myself… whether out there is something more exquisite than our Ishgardian ale. A tavern on a star serving the purest of ales. The taste of the hops lingering on mine palette for days to come.” Guerrique nodded happily while Noudenet’s expression was slightly stupid as he tried to come up with an answer to this.  
“I… mayhap a new combination of alcohols would be… interesting…” Noudenet quickly added and suddenly had a very strange mental image of the Ward Knights flying on Thordan’s airship across the stars to locate the best taverns in worlds beyond theirs. With big bold letters a text appeared under the ship saying ‘And the quest for ale continues!’ He quickly shook his head and dismissed the ridiculous idea but couldn’t help laughing a little. His smile seemed to be the contagious sort and Ser Guerrique smiled back at him, after which they looked back towards the stars both imagining their own happy things, which was exactly a how a good relationship functioned.


	5. Sweet ass Bull

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a little Grinnaux and Paulecrain for 64 day. Nothing special.

The market was quite far from a place I preferred to spend my time at: the amount of people, especially the nobles, screaming children, foreigners and distasteful food smells were all quite repulsive to me. A dark corner at the Forgotten Knight with my loud, stupid and brash companion would have been more to my taste but today our dear Archimandrite had found Grinnaux sleeping during morning meetings with the Archbishop and he was currently stuck serving through his sentence.   
Zephirin had signed him into the kitchen to wash dishes, to the displeasure of the cooks and delight of the scullery maids. I highly doubted he knew how to wash them, but most likely he only needed to tell one of the girls to do it for him, while he dined on something forbidden to us. I would have been first to admit there was hardly anything charming about the imbecile Bull but suppose the females were stupid and thought landing themselves pregnant for a High House son would guarantee them a life of luxury. Little did they know it mostly awarded them a swift cold end at tip of my spear. It had been my job since the first time House Dzemael had hired me. I had quickly found out that I quite enjoyed putting those women who touched my lover through cold winter.   
I glanced at a market stall filled with sweets, mostly various animals and creatures made from chocolate. There was even a set of deepeyes and paissas. They didn’t particularly impress me but a lot of females were squealing infuriatingly around the things. The colour of chocolate always made me think of Grinnaux’s skin. I had never enjoyed sweets, not even as a child, not that we had any in the streets of Brume mind you, but the sweetest thing I cared about was that idiot currently getting the scullery maids pregnant. Nothing tastes as honeyed as sucking on his lips, nipples or skin and even his Bull’s milk was oddly sugary. Everything sweet in the world I needed was only in that one man. I was about to turn and leave when a large hand was placed on my shoulder.   
I turned to see the white haired axe brother of mine. He was smiling proudly and holding some of the chocolate deepeyes.  
“Paulecrain my devil of a friend. Do you think the nerd would like these?” I stared at him coldly wondering which nerd he might be talking about. “Noudenet… I mean Noudenet… you know he keeps them as pets, don’t you? We’ve played with them…” I couldn’t really read his expression but he didn’t look pleased with me. I didn’t particularly care about either of them. So I simply shrugged.  
“I am sure he will like them then.” I turned about to go but I was held back by that hand. Irritated I turned back to him. Why was he bothering me? He was more Grinnaux’ friend than mine. I preferred not to have friends outside the Bull. He was enough to handle as it was. I did not require or want anyone else in my life.   
“Here…” He gave me a feisty looking chocolate buffalo. “A Bull for our Bull!” He laughed and turned away. I stared at the little thing in my hand and felt a sudden urge to crush it. So small and helpless; I imagined it as my lover. But then pushed such urges away with a deep breath.   
It was evening when I entered his room and placed the buffalo in his large hand. He stared at it seeming a little tired at first but then he laughed. I felt strange in my chest at the deep manly sound. He thought the thing cute and refused to eat it. Instead he placed it childishly onto a safe place next to his bed. We soon forgot about it since all I wanted to feel, see and touch was the big chocolate Bull in front of me.


End file.
